Strike That, Reverse It
by dramaqueen6
Summary: (Willy Wonka fanfic) A few years after the movie's events take place. I've added 4 more chapters and I'm finished with it! Look at 'em!
1. Default Chapter

A/N: Yay! I'm starting the sequel! (You'd probably better read the first one, "The Man Who Got Everything He Wanted", first). Now, bare with me. I'm introducing lots of new characters, and it's a little complicated. Thanks!  
  
Disclaimer: (maniacal laugh) HA HA HA! It's mine! All mine! (lawyer whispers in ear) Oh. Yeah. Willy Wonka and Charlie is not mine. And I did not invent the question mark.  
  
"Uh, Mr. Wonka? Mr. Wonka?"  
  
He looked up at Charlie, now fifteen years old. "Yes?"  
  
"It's time for you to teach me more abou the factory," he said, eagerly.  
  
"Oh," he said. He got up from the table, and began walking along with him.  
  
It had been a few years since he had given the factory to Charlie, and he barely did anything except teach him how to manage it and give the biweekly tours around the building. He had plenty of time to let his mind wander.  
  
"Sir, can I ask you something?" Charlie asked.  
  
He smiled gently at him. "You can ask me anything."  
  
The boy sighed. "You just - you just seem kind of depressed and moody sometimes. One moment, your jumping around and singing, and the other, your silent and have this forlorn look on your face. What do you think about all the time?"  
  
Willy thought about Tawny often. But even more often, he thought about his daughter. He wondered what kind of young woman she had become, what she looked like, and if she was anything like Tawny or him. He thought about what she was doing, where she was, and if she was happy.  
  
"Did - did I ever tell you about Tawny? And Wednesday?"  
  
Charlie shook his head.  
  
He sighed, and began to tell him.  
  
Currently, seventeen year old Wednesday was sitting in the principal's office, covered in paint, eggs, and dirt.  
  
She glanced at her thoroughly freaked out best friend, Stanley. She sighed. "You have to admit it was *really* fun."  
  
He scowled at her. "Oh, shut up."  
  
Wednesday's mother, Lindsay, burst in. Her long hair, red as fire, was held up with two chopsticks. She was wearing a long flowing dress and flip- flops.  
  
She immediatly hugged her daughter, not caring if she ruined her clothes. "Oh, are you alright, baby? Has that fascist principal done anything to you yet? Because your uncle is a great lawyer-"  
  
"No!" she burst. She chuckled, nervously, "I'm fine."  
  
She knew no matter what she did, she would never get into trouble with her mother. She believed that there was nothing that was wrong or right, and everything her little baby did was marvelous.  
  
Well, she wasn't actually her baby. She had been raised knowing that her single mother had adopted her. Sometimes she actually felt sorry for kids who weren't like Stanley, because his parents were rich British socilaites and never thought there son was good enough for there standards.  
  
And they despised Wednesday. She always convinced him to do things he wouldn't do in his right mind, not to mention she kept him from cutting his shoulder length light brown hair because she said it was "cute."  
  
*Speaking of his parents,* Wednesday thought as they burst in, both sporting three piece business outfits.  
  
"I can't believe you!" his mother screeched in a British accent the same as Stanley's. She turned to Wednesday. "And you . . . you terrible little bitch! I'm going to-"  
  
"Wednesday Mars, Stanley Turner," the secretary said. "The principal will see you now."  
  
"This is an outrage," Mr. Collins began. "This 'terrorism'-"  
  
"A prank," Wednesday interrupted. "A prank."  
  
"Whatever!" he exclaimed. "It is still a terrible thing. Miss Mars, we would have expelled you already if your uncle didn't pay so much for you to attend this school. But I've had enough. You're out."  
  
Wednesday tried not to seem outwardly upset. But she was. It meant she wouldn't be able to see Stanley as much. And it got worse.  
  
Mr. Collins turned to the boy and his parents. "I know that you were only accomplice, so you get detention for the rest of the year-"  
  
"Hey!" Lindsay burst. "That is sexism! That boy is as much responsible for this so-called *crime* as he is!"  
  
Wednesday rolled her eyes. The next thing she knew, her mother would be standing on the desk and making a big speech about inequality in America.  
  
"Okay, okay," Mr. Collins said. "I'll expell him."  
  
"What?!" his parents' burst.  
  
The principal groaned. "Alright, if he stops dating her, he can continue attending this school."  
  
"What do you mean, dating?" Wednesday exclaimed.  
  
Stanley blushed deeply as his mother ranted. "All he ever talks about is you! Wednesday this, and Wednesday that, and, Oh! She is so pretty and smart and-"  
  
"I think that's enough mother," he interjected.  
  
His father grabbed him by the collar. "You don't disrespect your mother like that! You will never see this girl again, alright?"  
  
There was a silence as everyone waited for his answer. Wednesday's eyes bored into him.  
  
He sighed, and looked down at his hands. "Fine."  
  
She jumped out of her seat and ran out of the room, tears in her eyes.  
  
When they got home, she ran to her room and bawled. Stanley was her best friend, her only person in the entire world. How could he do this to her?  
  
She heard a knocking on her window. She spun around, to see Stanley standing there with some wilting dandy lions in his hands.  
  
She beamed. She quickly replaced it with a scowl. She had to punish him first.  
  
She opened the window. "I don't want to talk to you anymore!"  
  
He raised an eyebrow. "Then what are you doing now?"  
  
She started to close the window.  
  
"No!" he exclaimed. "Please forgive me. I've been a stupid bugger."  
  
She faked an aggravated sigh. "Are you really, really sorry?"  
  
"Yes," he said sincerely.  
  
She finally smiled. "Alright, I forgive you." She slipped out the window.  
  
He helped her out, hands on her hips. "So, what do you want to do?"  
  
"Let's go to the chocolate factory," she said. "Oh, and you can take your hands off my hips, now."  
  
They flew off. "Sorry." 


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: I wrote this and number one in one sitting. I hope you enjoy it!  
  
Disclaimer: Not mine.  
  
Willy buttoned up his shirt and put on his jacket. It was time for the week's last tour.  
  
He didn't do anything to make himself presentable, like waging a war with his hair. He would've lost.  
  
He turned into the lobby to see a roomful of people. The tours were a big attraction.  
  
"Are we all ready to go?" he asked.  
  
"Yes!"  
  
"All right," he said, and was about to leave, when a pair of teenagers came in, late. One was a boy, tall with long brown hair. The other, a girl -  
  
A girl who looked exactly like Tawny.  
  
His breath caught in his throat. *Oh my God! It - it can't be . . .*  
  
Then he saw her eyes. His eyes. A sensitive, honest, sparkling blue. She smiled, looking exactly like Tawny.  
  
It was her.  
  
By this time she had noticed he was staring at her. She was silent.  
  
He shook himself, and grinned wider than he ever had before. "Ladies and gentleman, this way."  
  
He had gotten them into trouble on purpose. He made it easy for them to snatch up some candy, and turn into two strawberries.  
  
Now, the tour was over, and the former strawberries sat in his office.  
  
"I'm really, really sorry, sir!" the boy pleaded, practically on his knees. "Don't call my parents!"  
  
He hadn't. He'd only called the girl's.  
  
"What's your name?" he asked him.  
  
"Stanley Turner, sir."  
  
"And I can tell by your accent that your from England."  
  
"Yes, London."  
  
Willy turned to the girl, casually sucking on a gobstopper. "Your name is . . ."  
  
"Wednesday Mars," she said.  
  
His heart boomed in his chest. "Where are you from?"  
  
"Around here," she replied, licking her fingers.  
  
"How long have you to be friends?" he asked.  
  
The boy lit like a light bulb. "Oh, since I came to America -"  
  
"What is this?" Wednesday interuppted. "The Spanish Inquisition?"  
  
He shook his head. She didn't seem like Tawny, outwardly, anyway. She seemed more like him, if he had had more of a rebellious, careless streak.  
  
He knew why when her mother walked in.  
  
Her mother was beautiful. Not beautiful like Tawny of Wednesday was, but in a different way. A more quirky, striking way.  
  
She immediatly started defending her daughter. "You have no right to accuse her! This is all your fault!"  
  
"Please, please, Mrs. . . . Miss Mars?"  
  
She blushed slightly. "Miss."  
  
"Yes." He moved around in his chair. "I admit. It is my fault. I did this so I could talk to you about something." He took out a photograph of Tawny from his desk. It was old and crinkled, and she was six months pregnant, but it was enough evidence.  
  
He handed them the picture. "Does this look like anyone?"  
  
Their mouth's dropped open. "Yes - yes -" the girl stuttered. "It's - it's me."  
  
He smiled. "No, it's your mother." He tapped her bulging stomach. "*That's* you."  
  
"Who is this?" she asked, astonished.  
  
"She is - I mean, she was, my wife."  
  
Stanley and her mother were silent, having already figured it out.  
  
"That means . . ." Wednesday drifted off.  
  
"I'm your father." 


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Thanks for the reviews! Here's the next chapter.  
  
Disclaimer: Now that I think about it, a pretty big bulk of the story is original. And MINE - about, what, 70 percent? But the rest ain't mine.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
There was a very long silence.  
  
"So . . ." Wednesday drifted off. "What happened?"  
  
Willy exhaled. "She died."  
  
She was still confused. "Why didn't I live with you?"  
  
"I couldn't deal with it. I was a broken down person."  
  
Her face turned as red as a tomato. "So you just abandoned me?"  
  
He shook his head. "No. It killed me -"  
  
"I hate you!" she screamed. She jumped out of her seat. "I don't even now why you told me this!"  
  
She left the room.  
  
Willy, Stanley, and Lindsay all sat there, aghast.  
  
He scoffed. "Like her mother."  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Wednesday couldn't stop thinking about it for the next few days. She was pissed, and she was also confused. If he loved her so much and had so much money, why did he give her up?  
  
On the third day, her mother came to her room.  
  
"Honey?" she called from behind the door.  
  
"Come in."  
  
She sat on the edge of the bed Wednesday was sprawled over. "We need to talk."  
  
She looked up. "About what?"  
  
She sighed. "Now, I'm not judging you, sweetie. But I think that all the trouble you've been getting into lately is your way of acting out your anger."  
  
"What?" She sat up. "What are you talking about? I'm happy!"  
  
Lindsay shook her head. "I can tell you have some anger. And I think the best thing to do is have you live with your father."  
  
"He's not my father!" she screamed. "He's just some guy who screwed some lady that gave birth to me! I've never even met him up until now!"  
  
"I've be talking with him, and we both think it's the best thing to do."  
  
She crossed her arms across her chest and pouted. "Too bad. I'm not going."  
  
Lindsay made a stern, harsh look that Wednesday had never seen before. "You're going."  
  
She was silent. She couldn't get out of this.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
The next day, instead of walking with Stanley to her house, they headed toward the chocolate factory.  
  
She took a deep breath when they got to the door. "I really don't want to face him."  
  
He smiled softly and squeezed her hand. "Everything will be okay. It won't be that weird."  
  
She scoffed incredulously. "I hope so."  
  
She opened the door and stepped in. The building was warm and inviting. And it smelled really good.  
  
She close the door and spun around, face to face with a strange boy.  
  
She yelped. "Who are you?"  
  
He smiled at her. "I'm Charlie Bucket."  
  
"Oh. The kid that he gave the factory to, right?"  
  
He nodded. "That's me. Who are you?" He offered his hand.  
  
She shook it. "Wednesday Mars."  
  
He beamed. "Oh! Willy's daughter!"  
  
Wednesday smirked sardonically. "More or less." She heard a man and a woman talking. "Who's that?"  
  
"That's my Grandpa Joe and my mom. They live here with me. My other grandparents live in a condominium in Florida."  
  
She nodded slowly. "So, where's my room?"  
  
He took her there. It was lavish, with a big bed and beautiful, silky sheets and a window with a view of the city.  
  
"Wow," she murmured.  
  
"Like it?" she heard behind her.  
  
She spun around. Willy stood there with Charlie.  
  
Her face slumpled into a frown. "It's okay."  
  
He chuckled. "Come, take a tour."  
  
"I've already taken it," she replied, argumentative.  
  
He grinned mischievously. "You went the easy way through the factory. You only saw what tourists see. There's lots more."  
  
"C'mon," Charlie said. "It's really fun."  
  
She gave in. "Well, all right." 


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: This chapter's kind of short. I'll upload a longer one later.  
  
Disclaimer: Anything that was in the book/movie isn't mine.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
*Where did she get such a terrible attitude from?* Willy wondered.  
  
They were in the hallway that got smaller as you walked up it.  
  
"You'll notice that the hallway is getting smaller - or I'm getting larger," he told her.  
  
"Cool," she said.  
  
She hadn't freaked out yet, like the other winners of the Golden Ticket's had. She was just amazed and fascinated. It made his heart swell from adoration.  
  
Pulled out a keyboard above a small door. "It's a musical lock."  
  
"Obviously."  
  
"And I have to tell you cannot to touch or eat anything - except the gumdrops and the candy bars and the pudding and the birds and the tress and the flowers and the bees and the atoms and molecules-"  
  
She smiled faintly. "I get it."  
  
He smiled back. "Very good."  
  
He unlocked the door, and revealed the candy garden.  
  
Her mouth dropped open. Her eyes widened. "It's - it's -"  
  
"It's what?"  
  
"It's paradise!" she ran out to the candy, gobbling it up as Charlie and Willy looked on, amused.  
  
They walked over to her.  
  
"This is so *good*!" she said, eating chocolate mint leaves off one of the trees.  
  
He didn't tell her that he was pretty sure she was conceived somewhere near there.  
  
"This is only the beginning!" Charlie said. "Oh, look, oompa loompas!"  
  
A group of small people with orange faces and green hair came out.  
  
She stared them in amazement. "This has got to be the most magical place in the world," she murmured.  
  
"It is now," he replied.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"It is so cool!" Wednesday squealed in Stanley's ear later that evening.  
  
He cradled the phone in the crook of his neck. "I guess it's not as bad as you thought, huh?"  
  
"Well, maybe I was being a little judgemental," she admitted.  
  
Stnaley could hear his parents howling at each other again. He shut the door. "School is boring without you."  
  
He could hear the smile in her voice. "Isn't everything?" she joked.  
  
He picked up his notebook, the one that had "I love Wednesday Mars" written all over it. He put it under his bed. "My parents want me to join the football team."  
  
She laughed. "American football? You'd be killed!"  
  
"Oh, they want me to get into a university, get a cheerleader pregnant, that sort of thing."  
  
"Goddamn it, George! I can't handle this shit anymore!" he heard his mother scream.  
  
"Well why don't you take your fat ass and bloody leave?" he heard his father reply.  
  
"What was that?" Wednesday asked.  
  
"Oh, the radio," he lied. "Listen, I've got to go. See you."  
  
"See you."  
  
He hung up the phone. He laid on his bed and put on his head phones. He cranked them up as loud as he could.  
  
He did what he did every other night. He thought about Wednesday until his parents couldn't yell anymore. 


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: They all get one last chance to be happy before everything hits the fan, so to speak.  
  
DISCLAIMER: Not mine.  
  
_____________________________________________________________________ Willy home schooled Wednesday. He taught her things you couldn't learn in school, like how to make the perfect Gobstopper and about Vermiscous Knids.  
  
He taught her outside at a table on the patio. He had a large chalkboard installed and was always writing on it.  
  
One day she wasn't paying attention. She restlessly followed along, until she had to ask. "What was my mother like?"  
  
"Huh?" he asked, spinning around.  
  
"What was my mother like?" she repeated. "I mean, was she – was she anything like me?"  
  
He sighed, and sat down. "Kind of like you but at the same time . . . not."  
  
She snorted. "That was wonderfully vague."  
  
He leaned in, moving his hands around to help him think. "She had this innocent quality, even though she was a homeless drug addict."  
  
Her mouth fell open. "What?"  
  
He smiled. "I'm getting a little ahead of myself, aren't I? You see, I met her when I was walking around one day. She curled up on a doorstep. I could tell she was homeless – her hair was dirty and uncombed, she wore ratty old clothes, and had the saddest look I had ever seen on someone's face before." He leaned on his elbow and glanced out into space. "I loved her even then. I gave her some money and my address. She came back a few days later in the middle of the night. She had stolen some drugs from this dealer. I took care of it, and she came to live with me."  
  
"What did she think when she had me?"  
  
"She was really happy about it. She spent a lot of time making a room for you and baby clothes and planning what we were going to name you."  
  
There was a pause before she asked the inevitable. "What was it like the day she died?"  
  
He swallowed. It was still difficult to talk about it. "She had had a difficult pregnancy. I thought we were going to lose you, not the other way around." He sighed, and then admitted it. "The last time I saw her, I was on my way to see another woman."  
  
Her mouth opened wider. "What?"  
  
"I only kissed her. And I realized that I was making a huge mistake and came back home. By that time, she was at the hospital in labor." He leaned in, and met her eyes. "You see, she died giving birth to you."  
  
The color drained from her face. "So it's my fault?"  
  
He smiled gently, shaking his head. "No, it wasn't you're fault," he assured her. "I used to think it was mine, but it wasn't. It wasn't anyone's fault." 


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: And everything hits the fan . . . I have to warn you, Wednesday is not at her best, here.  
  
DISCLAIMER: Wonka not mine.  
  
To dust off an old cliché, Stanley trusted him as much as he could throw a grand piano.  
  
He didn't feel too good already. Wednesday had convinced him to get into a club with two painfully obvious IDs (Wednesday was a middle aged Chinese man; Stanley was a bald bodybuilder with a goatee). They had only gotten in because she had flirted up a storm with the bouncer.  
  
He clutched his sweaty drink and glanced around. Everyone here was drunk or high or both. He really wanted to leave, but when he saw Wednesday dancing to the music, he was mesmerized. And he couldn't just abandon her there.  
  
She came and sat down with him. He sipped, hot alcohol burning down his throat.  
  
He could smell it heavily on her. She scooted over to him and put a hand on his knee. His body heat had just shot up. He swallowed.  
  
She kissed his ear. "You're looking particularly cute tonight, *Stannn,*" she slurred. "Why don't we mess around?"  
  
He wanted to. He wanted it badly. But, instead, her shook his head and pushed her away. "You're piss drunk."  
  
She hit his shoulder. "You're no fun!" She something in the bar and smiled. "I know someone who is!"  
  
She got up and ran to a tall guy in a leather jacket and dark sunglasses. Stanley had no idea why he was wearing them. In spite of the neon lighting, he could barely see his hands.  
  
She started palpably flirting with him. Jealousy swept through Stanley. If he wasn't going to be with her tonight, no one else was, either.  
  
He came over and tugged on his arm. "C'mon, let's go home."  
  
She ripped her arm away stubbornly. "This is Gavin," she said, putting a hand on his shoulder.  
  
*Sounds like a character from a soap opera,* he thought. He studied him. He had a square jaw and a well built body. Stanley didn't have a chance in hell against him.  
  
"We really should go home," he persisted. Wednesday pushed him away. "You go home! I don't even know why I brought you! I hate you!"  
  
*Don't get mad. She's drunk,* he told himself. But he knew that after years of his mother's martini binges, people who were drunk usually told the truth. Anger flooded him. He didn't really give a damn what happened to her.  
  
He didn't explode, though. He just stepped back and sighed. "Goodbye, then."  
  
________________________________________________________________________  
  
Wednesday felt bad for treating Stanley like that, but it was quickly fading away. How much did she have to drink? One, two, three . . . five drinks?  
  
*Yeah,* she thought. *I stopped at five.*  
  
Gavin brought her outside. "Wanna go to my place?"  
  
She shook her head, staggering. "No. I had better go home. Willy will be mad at me."  
  
He kept asking her, pulling her farther down the road. "Oh, it's only a couple blocks from here . . ." he said.  
  
Suddenly, a van pulled up beside them. The door opened. In a flash, a bag was pulled over her head and she was pulled in her car before she could even make a weak drunken scream.  
  
She heard the door close. She started to panic. She thrashed sloppily, until she felt something hit her head.  
  
She drifted off into sleep . . . 


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: This is where things get a little, uh, naughty (that makes you want to keep ready, huh?)  
  
DISCLAIMER: Wonka stuff not mine  
  
The same night, Lindsay came.  
  
She walked into Willy's office. He breathed in sharply. Her hair was up in chopsticks, with small tendrils tapering down to her neck. She was wearing a short skirt and a cleavage showing top.  
  
He looked down. He felt guilty about the feelings he had for her. He should've only felt them about Tawny, no one else.  
  
She smiled at him. "Is Wednesday here?"  
  
"Well, maybe in spirit, mind, I would guess, but not physically. So, no."  
  
She chuckled and sat down by him. Her skirt rose up her thighs.  
  
He forced himself to look down at his desk. "So, how are you doing?"  
  
"Good, and you?"  
  
"Fine."  
  
There was a long silence. Lindsay sighed. "Do you – are you – seeing anyone?"  
  
He froze in surprise. "Uh," he stuttered. "I – I – no."  
  
She studied him. "How long has it been since you were with anyone?"  
  
He looked over his shoulder at her. "Wednesday is seventeen, right? So, it's been about seventeen years."  
  
She gasped. "Wow. The longest I've gone without a date is two weeks."  
  
He glanced over at her. "Why did you adopt her, anyway, if you weren't married?"  
  
She shrugged. "I found out I wasn't going to be able to have children, so I decided to adopt one as soon as I could."  
  
There was a silence again.  
  
"Kiss me," she suddenly said.  
  
He almost had a heart attack. "What?"  
  
She groaned, frustrated. "I know that you're attracted to me and I'm attracted to you. Just kiss me."  
  
He frowned and shook his head. "I can't."  
  
"Why not?" she asked, grabbing him by the shoulders. "I'm not trying to replace Tawny. But she is dead. You have to move on someday."  
  
He stared at her for a moment. Then, he leaned in and kissed her.  
  
Electricity shot through him. He brought her down on floor, kissing her neck. She undid the buttons on his shirt. They rolled around on the floor, like a romance novel, filled with passion and fever and other things that pushes the rating on a PG-13 story.  
  
They stopped for a moment, gasping. "Do you really want to do it, here?" he asked her.  
  
Lindsay, on top, kissed him. "Why not?"  
  
He laughed and kissed her again.  
  
Suddenly, Stanley burst in, Charlie, his mother, and Grandpa Joe glancing over his shoulder in bewilderment.  
  
They both screamed and separated. "Did anyone teach you how to knock, Stanley?" Willy yelled.  
  
Stanley ignored it and started jabbering frantically. "It's Wednesday . . . she's gone . . . I went back to the club . . . she wasn't anywhere . . ."  
  
Willy stood up, buttoning his shirt. "Wait, start over. What happened?" 


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: Here's a very badly written chapter. Sorry if it's confusing.  
  
DISCLAIMER: I don't own anything.  
  
________________________________________________________________________  
  
Wednesday was hungry. Really, really, hungry.  
  
She had no idea where the hell she was. She was in a corner; duck tape was stuck to her mouth, her ankles and wrists tied together.  
  
It was really cold. The room was concrete, with small windows streaming in dirty sunshine.  
  
She glanced up at the guy. He smiled at her like a shark, ready to hurt her and rip her to shreds.  
  
She whimpered. She begged. He shook his head and took off his glasses.  
  
She finally saw his eyes. God, if she had seen his eyes, she never, ever would've gone with him. Dark, cold, malicious, bringing chills down her back.  
  
He walks toward her. She stared out the windows, trying not to think about it. She thinks about old TV show jingles, old songs, anything that's not here and now, anything that wasn't her mother or Stanley or Willy.  
  
______________________________________________________________________  
  
The sunlight was gone. She glanced down at the floor. He was asleep. Good.  
  
As silently as she could, she fumbled around in the dark for the keys. Her hand locked around a small metal object. Good.  
  
She fumbled at the ropes around her ankles to get them united. She eventually got them unlatched, even though one was still wrapped around her ankle.  
  
She heard a groaning noise. Her head snapped back, to see him roll over and keep snoring.  
  
She scowled and stood up. She went do the door and fitted it into the lock. The door creaked open. Easy enough.  
  
She saw a set of stairs ahead her. She stepped cautiously onto them. She glanced back to see if he was still asleep.  
  
He still was. That bastard. She hated him. She hated him so much.  
  
Quickly, she slammed the door close and locked him in.  
  
As she went up the stairs she heard him banging on it with stone fists. It gave her a little satisfaction. ________________________________________________________________________  
  
When she got home, everyone was pacing around, anxious.  
  
They cried and tried to hug her but she pushed them away. It was all distorted, like they were underwater.  
  
Willy didn't let go of her. She wanted him to. She hated them all. She was embarrassed, embarrassed because of what happened to her. She was afraid that if they looked into her eyes, they would know. They could never know.  
  
"Where were you?" he finally demanded, getting angry.  
  
She finally exploded. "What, am I a child? Leave me alone!"  
  
She shoved him away and ran up to her room. She locked the door behind her and fell onto her bed.  
  
She listened to them talk. She couldn't take it anymore. Tears streamed down her face. She cried silently, until she fell asleep. 


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: This is one of the last chapters. I know I'm going to write at least two more, but that's it. Enjoy!  
  
Wednesday slept all day and didn't talk to anyone. Willy was beginning to worry about her. He had to do something. He knew the first thing he had to do. "Lindsay, we need to talk," he told her in his office the next day. She looked at him sweetly. "What?" He sat down. There was a long silence. He sighed. "I can't be with you." "What? Well, I mean, we're not real serious or anything –" "I – I just can't mess around like this. After Tawny, I don't think I'll ever love anyone as much as I love her. It wouldn't be fair to you and . . . I just can't do it." Astonishment spread across her face. "What? I mean . . . don't leave! Please, talk to me!" He shook his head. "No. This is the way it is." _______________________________________________________________________  
  
Wednesday was forced to walk around the factory with him later. They sat around the candy garden. She nibbled at some licorice, silent. He sighed. "Exactly where did you go?" She glanced up, her eyes murky and dark. This was killing him. The bright twinkle in her eyes had been blown out. She looks just like Tawny looked when I first met her, he realized. "I don't want to talk about it," she replied and went back to her candy. He groaned. "Please. I'm – I'm your father. I care about you. I *love* you." She sighed and met his eyes. "Do you really want to know?" she demanded. He nodded. She went on. "Stanley and I sneaked into a bar that night, but you probably already know that. I got drunk, so drunk the room was spinning. I started talking to this guy. Stanley tried to get me away from him, but like an idiot I ignored him – I actually got mad at him! The guy took me – well, forced me – to go to this place, and he *raped* me! Are you happy now?" All the blood drained from his face. This couldn't have happened. No, not his baby. Guilt invaded him. He should've protected her. It was his entire fault. "God, are you alright?" he asked, clutching her. She shrugged him off. "I'm fine," she muttered, tears squeezing out of her eyelids. "We can go to the police!" he burst. She scoffed. "I don't want to deal with this ever again. Just leave me alone." 


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: I'm starting to wrap everything up. Here's another chapter.  
  
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"So, you said you wanted to tell me something?" Wednesday asked Stanley when he came over a few weeks later.  
  
He nodded. He was going to tell her. He was going to tell her everything.  
  
"Well," he began, leaning onto the table. "I never told you this, but my parents fight constantly."  
  
She smirked. "I guess they're not as perfect as they want people to believe, huh?"  
  
He sighed. "Well, yes. Anyway, my father can't take it anymore. They're getting a divorce." He swallowed. "He's going back to London on Tuesday, and I might accompany him, according to . . . according to your reaction to what I'm about to tell you."  
  
"Okay. Spit it out."  
  
There was a long silence.  
  
"I – ever since I first saw you – I love you."  
  
"What?" she burst, aghast.  
  
He had opened this door and now he couldn't shut it. "Yes. I love you more than anything or anyone. I love everything about you and I want nothing more than to see your face. I think about you constantly. I can't stand to see you with anyone else. You're the sun in my sky, the coffee in my cup, the air in my lungs. I would do anything for you. I – I just love you."  
  
She didn't react like he thought she would. He had hoped she would leap into his arms and declare undying devotion, but he had expected her to laugh at him.  
  
Instead, she got angry. She stood up. "Why didn't you tell me this before?" she demanded. "Why didn't you tell me this a long time ago? Why did you have to heap this on me now?"  
  
"I was afraid," he said softly. She stabbed him deeper than any knife could.  
  
She fell back into her chair. "Just go away. I don't want to see you ever again."  
  
He bit down hard on his lip, trying not to cry. He had just given her his heart, and she had ripped it to shreds. He swallowed, getting up. He spun around, tears streaming down his face. He walked away, not seeing her cry, too. 


	11. Chapter 11

A/N: I've returned to my sugar sweet roots. I know this is a little abrupt, but this is the last chapter – not only in this story, but in all the Willy Wonka stories. Thank you for all your reviews, both positive and negative. I wrote the first WW story because of the scarcity of them, and I came out with two. Thanks! ________________________________________________________________________  
  
Wednesday realized she loved Stanley the day he was going to leave.  
  
I've already ruined it, she thought. I can't do anything.  
  
She looked down at her cereal. She might as well eat for comfort.  
  
Willy drifted in. Ice shot up between them.  
  
He got some food and sat down across from her. They stared at each for awhile.  
  
"So . . . where's Stanley been lately?" he asked.  
  
She shoveled food into her mouth. "He's not going to be around anymore."  
  
"Why?" he asked, curious.  
  
"He's leaving today for England. We got into a fight. He told me he loved me."  
  
He snorted. "That's one of the worse things you can say to someone."  
  
She scowled. "No one asked for your input."  
  
He ignored her. "That's a shame. You two would've been good together. He really seemed to love you."  
  
She raised an eyebrow. "You knew?"  
  
He laughed. "It was pretty obvious. I bet the whole world knew except you."  
  
"Well, thanks for giving the heads up," she said between chews.  
  
He shook his head. "So . . . that's it? Aren't you going to chase after him or something to that gist?"  
  
She threw her spoon down. "What am I supposed to do? I've screwed it up."  
  
He sighed. "I know the last few weeks have been hard on you. But since you don't want to do anything about it, you have to move on. You'll regret this someday. Maybe you regret it now. You're letting something precious get away."  
  
She stared into her bowl. "I know. But I can't do anything."  
  
"You can got to the airport and stop him. Do you think he's left yet?"  
  
She shook her head. "I don't know. I can try."  
  
He smiled her. "Yeah, do that."  
  
She shot up. "I have to go, now!" She started to run to the door, and then spun around.  
  
She walked over to Willy and hugged him. "Thanks, Dad. I love you."  
  
He smiled at her. "I love you, too, Wednesday. Now go get him."  
  
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She arrived at the airport just as the flight to London took off.  
  
She pressed her face up against the window, tears streaming down her face. It wasn't supposed to end like this. They were supposed to find each other and kiss and say they loved each other and live happily ever after. Not this.  
  
She began to sob. She had ruined everything.  
  
She felt a hand on her shoulder. She spun around, to see Stanley.  
  
She melted against him, crying even harder. "I'm so sorry."  
  
"It's okay," he said with a smile. "Your father called me and said you'd come."  
  
She smirked, wiping tears away. "Now why didn't I think about that?"  
  
They laughed.  
  
"I love you," she said. "I love how you call for no reason at all, how you make me laugh, and how you take care of me. I can't stand be without you. I'm so sorry –"  
  
He pressed a finger against her lips. She grew quiet. Slowly, he leaned in, and kissed her.  
  
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Back at home, Willy was thinking about his own advice. He would always love Tawny more than any other woman – except for Wednesday – but he had to move on. Maybe he could give Lindsay a call. Or maybe not.  
  
He glanced out the window. He saw Wednesday and Stanley coming to the door. She was smiling. It made the sun open up in his heart. It would be a long road to recovery, but at least she was making steps toward it.  
  
He knew somewhere out there, Tawny was watching them, smiling just like he was.  
  
Everything is going to be okay, he realized. For the first time, it all was going to turn out fine. 


End file.
